


Villains

by AlynnaStrong



Category: ER (TV 1994), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Femslash, discussion of suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 16:51:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15538710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlynnaStrong/pseuds/AlynnaStrong
Summary: Phasma seeks help for an unstable Kylo Ren and makes a connection with a doctor who understands about being an outsider.





	Villains

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EmpireMurderer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpireMurderer/gifts).



> Happy birthday, EM!

Every head in the waiting room turned when the imposingly large woman carried in the naked, unconscious man. Though he was clearly muscular and tall himself, she walked with little apparent effort despite having him slung across her shoulders.

She strode past the room full of back pain and gastrointestinal sufferers without slowing her pace. Lily, the triage nurse, rushed from behind the desk to chase her down.

“You need to-”

“He needs a doctor immediately.” The woman's voice left no room for compromise.

“Is he breathing?” asked the nurse.

“Yes, barely. I found him in the bath, but his head hadn’t gone under the water. There was a syringe nearby. Heroin, most likely but I can’t be certain.” She recited the facts in an emotionless tone as if she was reporting on an insignificant event happening half-way around the world.

“Okay, he’s top of the list. Let the aides get him settled while you help me with the paperwork.”

The woman seemed to shake herself out of a daze and replied more meekly, “Alright.”

Lily had seen this before. After the initial focus on getting help was satisfied, the traumatized family member often didn’t know what to do next.

“Let’s start with the basics. His name?”

“Um, Ben.”

“Last name?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Is he your boyfriend?” Lily asked delicately. She must not know him very well – one-night stand maybe? – but she did care enough to bring him in.

“No. God. He’s in my squadron. I just know him by his call sign, Kylo. I’m Phasma.” She shook her head. “You can get it… He doesn’t have his dog tags on,” she said. This realization seemed to infuriate her. “This morning he said he was sending a care package to his mother…” she muttered.

Suddenly Phasma leapt from her seat and sprinted over to Ben’s curtained area.

“It’s wasn’t an accident, was it, you asshole?” she yelled. “You’re really going to off yourself over a disagreement with command? You’re not some fucking samurai. Killing yourself is not going to change any policy. Why can’t you just keep your head down, follow orders, and look for your opportunities? All the matters in the end is staying alive. We survive, Kylo. That’s all we need to do. I can’t even look at you! With all your skill, you would throw it away-”

“Hey!” A sharp voice cut through Phasma’s diatribe. The speaker was short and supported herself with a cane, but Phasma thought she’d make an excellent drill sergeant nonetheless. She had that kind of voice. “I know this is a tough time, but I can’t have you disrupting my ER. Other people have problems too. Step outside and cool down.”

A hearty ‘go fuck yourself’ died on Phasma’s lips. The doctor’s steady gaze brooked no dissent. _What is it with redheads and irritating orders lately,_ she mused.

Phasma turned on her heel and walked out of the building into the crisp Chicago air. She drew in some deep breaths and watched them disperse in clouds of vapor. It sure as shit was colder here than in the zone. She’d thought it would be a relief, but practically everything since the squadron rotated out had felt unfamiliar. She didn’t belong here anymore. Sharing an apartment with other Chicago natives like Ben and the mechanic, Rose, helped, but she suspected she’d not be comfortable until she was back in uniform.

  


After a blunt series of texts with Rose, Phasma returned to the ER with Ben’s information. They told her he was still unconscious but stable and in the process of being admitted. If she returned in an hour or so, he would be set up in his room.

In the meantime, Phasma decided to grab a late lunch at the diner across the street. Glancing around, she noticed that quite a few of the hospital’s staff seemed to take their lunch here as well. The doctor who’d yelled at her earlier was sitting alone at the counter.

She approached the doctor, figuring she could extract some better intel about Ben’s condition if she made nice. “Sorry for losing my temper earlier. Going outside helped. Can I buy you a coffee; maybe talk to you about Ben?”

“Sure, and it’s no problem. It’s a rare day when I don’t have to throw someone out. At least you didn’t require security. I’m Dr. Weaver, chief of the ER.” She lowered her voice to confide the medical update. “Your friend is going to be okay. We’ve had a lot of practice reversing opioid ODs lately, sad to say. I’ll have them organize some materials about rehabs in the area. Are you the next of kin?”

“No, his parents live around here, or at least his mom. He’s just my housemate. Good thing he didn’t lock the bathroom, huh?”

“Well, it sounds like it was probably more of a cry for help than a serious attempt. That’s promising.”

“Un-fucking-believable,” Phasma muttered.

“You know, you seemed more angry than scared before, too. What’s going on?”

“I… I just can’t get my head around it. How someone could hurt themselves? No matter what, I’d never – ever – give up. It’s cowardly; it’s borderline treasonous considering how much this country has invested in him.”

Weaver laid a hand on her shoulder. “What would you do if you had someone around who constantly belittled you, tormented you, did everything they could to make your life miserable?”

“I would do whatever it took to get that person out of my life. With force if necessary. Perhaps preferably.”

Weaver nodded. “And what if that person is you? Sometimes the demons in someone’s mind get so bad that they see no other way out.”

Phasma looked Weaver over again. “Hmm. You know from experience?”

“Me? No,” Weaver said softly. “Most people around here would say I have no feelings or conscience at all.” She laughed, but her eyes said she wasn't joking.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“I do hold the staff to somewhat exacting standards,” she admitted.

Phasma shrugged. “That’s how things should be.”

“I’m just tired of being treated like a villain for it. Well, for that and having a little political competence. So, okay, let me put it to you. Let’s say you get to vote on who will be your boss. Now you _hate_ one of the candidates and you have a friend who agrees. The problem is, it’s an open vote right in front of the guy. The other board members talk first, and they all support him. Then your friend speaks up against him. Now it’s your turn. The vote is five to one. What do you do?”

“Obviously, unless I feel like ending my career, I vote for the asshole.”

“Exactly!” Weaver proclaimed, a little too loudly. She rapped her palm on the counter for emphasis.

“They treat Dr. Green like some kind of folk hero for speaking up against him, but unless I mitigated what he said, it was only going to get the department punished. Don’t think for a second senior physicians are above being petty. But because I got the guy's old job when he was promoted, everyone thinks I stabbed Green in the back for it.”

“There is nothing wrong with taking advantage when an opportunity presents itself. I’m sure the hard feelings are mostly jealousy anyway.”

Weaver realized she’d been having one of her more intimate conversations in recent memory, and she still didn’t know the young woman’s name. It didn’t hurt that she was tall and buff – exactly her type – with lovely (if perpetually angry) blue eyes. “I’m sorry. I just realized I didn’t catch your name.”

“Everyone calls me Phasma. I’m a fighter jock, like Kylo. Ben.”

“You can call me Kerry.”

“Carrie like the Stephen King book or Kerry like the county in Ireland?” Phasma asked.

Kerry threw back her head, exposing her pale neck and shaking out her auburn hair. “Ireland. Isn’t it obvious?”

Two booths away, Haleh left a $10 bill on the table and slipped out the door without waiting for her change. If she didn’t get away quickly she was going to burst out laughing. Dr. Weaver wasn’t the most subtle of flirters. Haleh knew she’d end up lancing every abscess and unclogging every colostomy bag that came through the door if she mocked her, though.

“Pleased to meet you,” Phasma said. “And don’t worry, people think I’m a villain too. I say it’s because I’m the best stick in the squadron. They just don’t want to strive to live up to my marks, so they try to pull me down instead. They’ll not succeed.”

“Why is it, do you think, that capable, determined women are so often labelled as villains?” Kerry asked.

“I couldn’t tell you! Probably the same reason they used to call us witches.”

“Don’t kid yourself; plenty still do. Men will invent a lot of explanations for being beaten fair and square by someone they consider lesser.”

“On that rather depressing note, I should go. I need to check if Ben’s settled. Then I’ve got rush hour traffic to look forward to on my way home.”

“You could stay locally instead. My place has a guest room. It’s practically around the corner from the hospital.” Kerry’s lingering eye contact made it plain that the master bedroom would also be an option.

“Very generous, but isn’t that unethical?”

“I don’t see why. I’m not your doctor. You’re not even your friend’s next of kin.”

Phasma nodded, already gathering her things.

“Besides, when the world calls you a villain, I say embrace it.”

 


End file.
